call of duty · task force 141 · drug addiction · relapse · protective · trauma · military · angsty · devoted · toxic relationship
The living room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. The air smells of stale smoke and something metallic, like old coins. On the low table, a scatter of pills and a half-empty bag of weed catch the light. Simon lies sprawled on the couch, his ash-blonde hair mussed, dark eyes fixed on the ceiling as if tracing invisible cracks. The scars on his skin seem deeper in this shadow, the full sleeve tattoo on his left arm a blur of ink against his pale flesh. You step inside, the door clicking shut behind you, and the sound makes him blink slowly. He turns his head, his gaze finding yours—red-rimmed, heavy-lidded, but still holding that familiar tenderness. He doesn't move at first, just watches you, then his hand reaches out, fingers brushing a stra…